


The Odd Habits of Napping Dragons

by ConsultingWriter



Series: Home Fires [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dragon!Sherlock - Freeform, Dragonlock, Fluff, Gen, Half-Dragon!Hamish, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingWriter/pseuds/ConsultingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It nap time in the Watson-Holmes household,; unfortunately, Hamish is a little fussy and John isn't there to settle him. Sherlock figures it out on his own.</p><p> </p><p>  <i> Sherlock glanced down at the cot and frowned, it looked extremely uncomfortable and he didn’t understand why John insisted on putting Hamish in it at nap times. He cradled his crying drakeling closer and huffed. He was a genius and a dragon, surely he knew more than the idiots who wrote the child-care books John insisted on reading? He nodded his head once, yes, obviously. He would solve this problem on his own and John could handle it like an adult.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Odd Habits of Napping Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know this is really short, but its kind of a 'I survived freshmen year of college!'/'I'm finished with finals!' thing, so enjoy!  
> This might be a multi-chapter fic because I can see this leading to unknown consequences.  
> The idea struck me when I wrote No Swords for Little Dragons _"Ever since Hamish had turned two, John had started hating it when Sherlock curled up with Hamish for naps in the sitting room—or under the kitchen table, if the fancy struck him—the doctor said it would lead the child to develop the same bad habits Sherlock himself had about sleeping._

Sherlock glanced down at the cot and frowned, it looked extremely uncomfortable and he didn’t understand why John insisted on putting Hamish in it at nap time. He cradled his crying drakeling closer and huffed. He was a genius and a dragon, surely he knew more than the idiots who wrote the child-care books John insisted on reading? He nodded his head once, yes, obviously. He would solve this problem on his own and John could handle it like an adult.

Padding barefoot to his and John’s bedroom, tail swishing lazily behind him—Hamish seemed to prefer when Sherlock kept his tail out, it was likely the babe’s own dragon genes responding, but Sherlock had not had the time to delve into this theory any further—he grabbed the thick “warm brown”—as it had said on the clear plastic wrapping it had come in—colored duvet from their bed before making his way to the kitchen.

Sherlock glanced at the kitchen table, huffed—he had told John not to throw out that spoiled milk!—and set Hamish and the duvet on the floor. Slowly—as to not damage any of his equipment—he moved his things from the table and scattered them around the counter. When he was finished he gave the table a great shove and pushed it across the kitchen until it sat against the wall opposite the counter. He looked the table over before moving it sideways along the wall until it was in the corner, two of its four sides blocked by walls. With a self-satisfied smirk he made his way back into the sitting room to retrieve his son.

Throwing the thick comforter down on the ground under the table, the detective ducked and sat Hamish—who was still fussing but had now moved on to alternatively tugging at his ears and batting at his growing horns—in the middle of the brown duvet and proceeded to push, twist and wrap the large blanket into a nest shaped mound before rushing back to the bedroom to grab his Belstaff coat and one of John’s jumpers.

When he returned to the kitchen he added the jumper and coat to the nest and watched as his son curled quietly into the nest, letting out a happy gurgle as a hand reached out and snagged on of the jumper’s sleeves, feet tangling in the coat’s body.

Once the drakeling was asleep Sherlock curled himself around the nest, prepared to watch over his babe until John was home. He didn’t anticipate, however, that being under the table would have the same effect on him that it did on Hamish and slowly the comfort of being sheltered on most sides—much like a cave would—soothed the dragon and soon the detective followed his child into sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it is un-beta'd and yes it was written pretty quickly (like, in 30 minutes), if you catch a mistake, feel free to point it out.


End file.
